


I Am Also a We

by cinnamont



Category: Glee, Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Crossover, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamont/pseuds/cinnamont
Summary: Kurt is working at Vogue.com. For about a week he has been getting glimpses of a dark, curly-haired man who isn't really there until one sweltering hot summer day... but he had to be hallucinating because you don't step into a New York subway and step out in a marketplace in the Philippines, right?





	I Am Also a We

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for mshoneysucklepink's birthday. A tumblr post went around asking for fics on her favorite fandoms klaine and Sense8, and being the au/crossover obsessed fan I am, I could resist.

Kurt was dying. The shirt under his light-knit Vivienne Westwood cardigan sweater was soaked through and stuck to his skin and he was pretty sure his styling foam that he used to sculpt his hair this morning was melting and dripping down his face. Even the air he breathed in felt moist. And worst still, he had the subway ride home to look forward to, crammed in a car full of sweaty New Yorkers. Kurt was about five seconds away from attacking a fire hydrant, anything to cool off and wash away the layer of sticky wet all over his body.

Why did he smell vinegar? And pork and spices? He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk in the vain hope that not moving might bring some relief from the sweltering summer heat. Annoyed pedestrians rushed past him. There wasn’t a restaurant anywhere near him but he was sure he smelled food. He couldn’t place it, something ethnic.

He needed to duck in somewhere with air conditioning before he passed out. Kurt’s eye caught on the reflective tinted glass of a parked car. There was a face staring back at him - not from inside - it was a reflection too but there was the strangest sense he was looking at him as if from the other side of the glass. He had long wildly wavy hair, thick brows and wide curious eyes set in a strong handsome face.

Kurt turned to the man who must have been standing behind him but no one was there. He looked back at the window. The reflection was just him now. Great, he was hallucinating. The heat was radiating off the pavement. He had to get out of here. Kurt hurried on the next couple of blocks to the subway entrance. He was down the stairs and burst out into the MARKET?!?!

WHERE THE HELL AM I?

The crush of people was suddenly less but they were also suddenly Asian? Kurt was standing outside on pavement but the street was lined with food stalls and flower vendors and tables full of fruits and vegetables underneath tents like he was suddenly at the flea market but he wasn’t. And standing right in front of him was the man he had been seeing in glimpses on and off for about a week wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt and cargo shorts and boat shoes with no socks. He stared back at Kurt like he appeared out of thin air.

Before either could speak a word, it rained. A torrential downpour like a curtain of water descending from the sky without so much as a single drop or drizzle of warning. Kurt squawked indignantly, holding up his hands as if that would somehow protect him. The dark-haired man laughed and reached out and grabbed Kurt by the hand and began to run with him in tow. The man pulled Kurt under one of the tent-covered stalls. He was still laughing.

“Who are you?” Kurt demanded. “Where am - Where is this place?”

“The market?” the man asked more than answered.

“No! This is not New York!” Kurt was starting to panic.

“New York?”

“Stop repeating me? Where am I?” Kurt was about to lose it.

“Manila,” the man tried to reassure Kurt.

“Manila???”

“Philippines,” the man tried again.

“No, no, no,” Kurt protested. “I am in New York City! This can’t be happening. And why is it even hotter and wetter here?!”

“It’s summer, it’s the rainy season,” the man said. “Here, wait a minute.”

The curly-haired man turned to the vendor and ordered a cup of something. Kurt couldn’t really see what was being scooped into the plastic cup and some kind of topping poured over it. The man presented the cup to a dubious Kurt. He took a spoonful of what looked sort of like ice cream and ate it. He held the cup to Kurt.

Tentatively Kurt tried a taste. It was cool and sweet and fruity and… “Is that - corn?!” Kurt was shocked. Who put corn in dessert? But it was good and cold and Kurt was so hot so he at another bite. “What is this?”

The man chuckled. “ _Halo-halo_. Shaved ice.”

Kurt dug into the treat. It helped but he was miserable the way his clothes clung to his hot skin. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore. Screw it, he didn’t care. He stepped out into the rain but he was pulled back under the tent.

“What are you doing?” the man exclaimed.

“I’m dying,” Kurt complained.

“Your sweater,” the man indicated his stylish orange sweater that he paired with his orange and blue plaid pants.

It was Westwood. Kurt stripped out of the sweater and handed it to Blaine and stepped out into the rain. He was instantly soaked through. Kurt tipped his head up. It was still unbearably hot but at least the water was washing away the layer of sweat. Blaine was laughing at him.

How did he know that? But he knew, his name was Blaine.

Raindrops caught on his eyelashes and grew so heavy that Kurt had to blink.

He was standing on the subway platform. New Yorkers were passing by him giving him crazy glares. He was standing there dripping wet, not from the rain but just his own sweat. His sweater was on the ground. Kurt spun around but Blaine was gone. He was in New York again.

What the hell just happened?

**Author's Note:**

> Kurt’s Vivienne Westwood outfit, except with a shirt because of the cut outs. I don’t think Kurt would want a nip slip at work.
> 
>  


End file.
